Anywhere, Everywhere
by drunkenvicar
Summary: Robert and Cora spend January 1, 1890 alone together at Grantham House, reflecting on how far they've come.


_January 1, 1890_

In the carriage, on the way back to Grantham House from the New Year's Eve ball, giddy from the festivities and the champagne, his hands first grasped hers, and, as the couple kissed wildly, they threatened to muss her intricate coiffure, passed over her corset-clad waist, pressed into her thighs through her ball gown and petticoats. Her fingers ran through his hair, down his neck, under his collar, then under his coat, knuckles taut, palms firm, keeping him as close to her as the awkward arrangement of the carriage seat allowed.

"Robert," Cora whispered, as her husband unhooked her wool coat and trailed his lips down her neck and over her chest. "We're almost there."

He sighed, and sat up. "Alright."

Cora took his hand, smiling. "But," she said, her voice simultaneously timid and flirtatiously. "You might continue undressing me inside."

"I might?"

"We could send the servants to bed," she continued. "And your parents aren't here. So we can sleep late tomorrow."

As the carriage came to a stop, Robert smiled and kissed her impetuously in reply.

"That is," Cora paused, with a hint of drama. "If you think you can manage."

"Well, I _am_ very determined."

* * *

As he held her hand and she stepped gracefully down from the carriage, Robert was captivated by the flush of her face against the cold winter air, the snowflakes flitting down to melt where the ball gown slightly elevated her breasts.

He must have been staring, for when she was on the curb next to him, he realized that Cora was peering at him quizzically.

"Robert? Is anything wrong?"

"Oh, no, not at all." He focused on her face again, grinning. "You're simply distractingly beautifully."

"Oh, Robert."

She kissed him again, slipping her hand up to cup his cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her back as they paused in the falling snow, under a festively decorated street lamp.

"It was a lovely evening," Cora whispered, pulling away and fixing her eyes on Robert's.

"Thank you for agreeing to go."

* * *

Following Cora into her bedroom, Robert disengaged his hand from hers in order to slip it around her waist, bringing her to a stop and pulling her to him from behind.

"You were breathtaking dancing tonight, my dear," he murmured into her ear, and her head tipped back to meet his shoulder. She shivered when Robert brought his finger to travel a featherlight line along the neckline of the gold and ivory gown. "If I weren't so well behaved, I might have tried making love to you in the cloakroom." This elicited giggles from Cora, but then Robert's lips made contact with the skin behind her ear and her breath caught.

"That would have been quite the scandal."

"Mhmm," was all the answer he gave, mouth against her neck, as he continued his path downward, toward the v-shaped back of her dress, which he followed with his lips – as his hands gripped her thighs – until he arrived at the apex, and a row of pearl buttons.

"Do you need help with the buttons?" Cora wondered, becoming breathless.

"No," Robert whispered decisivley, pressing one last kiss to her back before turning his attention to carefully releasing the small buttons.

And so he continued, in the dark room, illuminated only by the faint light of the street lamps and the glow of the falling snow, gently removing each piece of Cora's ball attire. She unhooked the corset from the front as he unlaced it from the back, and they both giggled when he had trouble with the bustle, until she stood before him in her chemise, pressing her hands into his chest, smiling.

"Wait a minute." Her hands slid up to his shoulders, pushing the tailcoat away. And she kept her eyes on his as she undressed him, nimble fingers undoing bow tie and buttons, until she knelt in front of him to untie his shoes and pull down his trousers. Once she'd flung them over her shoulder with a mischievous grin, she placed one hand on his bare thigh, and pressed her lips to the other one, but then stood up, carefully avoiding touching him anywhere else – yet.

Robert closed his eyes. "Oh, Cora."

But Cora was backing away from him, and when he opened his eyes again, she was sitting down on her vanity chair, but keeping her eyes on him, her face intent. She gingerly removed her tiara, and then, one by one, each of the pins holding her hair in place, letting loose the curls, which dropped to her shoulders in a manner Robert found most mesmerizing. He stood rooted to the spot, barely blinking, watching her. When her hair was down and her jewelry removed, she leaned down, tugging her chemise up her legs so she could remove her garters and roll down her stockings, which she did in the same deliberate manner in which she'd taken down her hair. By the time Robert realized that he'd gone longer than was normal without blinking, her drawers and chemise had also been discarded to the vanity chair, and she was walking towards him again.

Cora's hands gripped his waist, and he pulled her against him, kissing her hungrily. But it was she who started moving towards the bed, pushing him backward, until his legs met the mattress. And her lips left his, making their way down his neck, passing over a nipple and then over his ribs, until she was once more kneeling and kissing his stomach. This time, she brushed her fingers over his arousal, before her hand wrapped more decisively around him and her lips descended from his stomach to press kisses along his length.

Robert let out a long groan – and then Cora's lips went carefully around him. "Oh, God."

She felt emboldened – with champagne and desire and the excitement of the evening's festivities – and for the first time, she didn't feel self-conscious as she pressed her tongue against him, taking in his sounds of pleasure.

But before his breathing become too labored, she kissed her way back up his body, until her mouth met his in an intense kiss. Not breaking apart, they found their way onto the bed, Cora pulling Robert on top of her.

"You're amazing," he murmured between kisses. "I love you."

At this sentiment, she was overcome with the feeling that she was incredibly lucky with the way things had developed in her marriage since the year before, and she captured her husband's face between her hands, kissing him more purposefully, slipping her tongue between his lips.

After a few moments, Robert sat up, scooting back to sit between Cora's feet, smiling at her appreciatively before picking up an ankle and pressing his lips to the inside.

"Ooh."

"Do you like that?"

"Mmmhm," she smiled up at him, almost feeling silly.

"I'm glad."

His lips proceeded, slowly, up her leg, and he reveled in her soft sighs and occasional fidgeting. When he got to the inside of her thigh, her body keened towards him, her sighs became more like groans, and when he touched her with his lips and his tongue, her mouth opened involuntarily, and her whispered "yes" was barely audible as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Cora sometimes still couldn't believe how nice things like this felt, how much _better_ she and Robert had managed to get at this whole game of pleasuring one another in the previous months. It really was the most terrific _fun,_ there were no other words to describe it – and nothing her mother had said on the subject before her wedding had quite captured that.

Robert mimicked her actions from before, and, having worked her into quite a state, slowly trailed kisses over her stomach, between her breasts, into the dip between her shoulder bones, and up her neck to her ear, at which point his fingers resumed the work his mouth had been doing, and he began whispering to her.

"Cora, my darling," he pressed a kiss to the spot right in front of her ear as his fingers took up a circular motion. "You enthrall me."

"Uh uh," was the only response she could give, rendered incapable of speech, but she ran her hands down his body to press them into the small of his back.

"When we were dancing, and you were breathing heavily," Robert sighed now himself, her moans having intensified, making it harder for him to concentrate just on pleasuring her. "I pictured you, just like this."

"_Oh._" Her breath hitched when his fingers changed tactics.

He applied his lips to her neck, right under her ear, and proceeded to press wet, fervent kisses down to her collar bone and back up again.

And in a few more moments, as his lips continued to caress her neck, her legs tightened around his hand and her body shook and the sounds of pleasure that had been coming from deep in her throat became first deeper and then turned into higher pitched sighs of greatest relief as she pulled him to her, pressing his body against hers. Kissing his temple, she ran her foot up his leg as she bent hers.

"Oh, Robert," she murmured contentedly, and for a few moments, she seemed to sink into the bed in pleasure and happiness. But, as he started kissing her neck again and she felt his arousal against her thigh, she ran her fingers more purposefully through his hair, tugging his head up to align with hers. She lifted her head to kiss him, hard and thankfully on the mouth, and when she lowered it, their eyes met and before he could ask or make any move, she gave him a smile and a meaningful nod, and moved her legs so that he landed in between them.

Robert kissed her deeply as he thrust into her, his lips fervently against hers as she kept her hold on him, her fingernails grazing his scalp. Lifting her hips, Cora wrapped her legs around him, flexing her thighs for a moment and making him groan into her mouth. His hands travelled down her body to grasp her bottom, and they began moving together, grasping at each other desperately, with hands and thighs and lips and fingernails. Taking in the feeling of him inside her, of their bodies moving in tandem, of his weight on her, of their heated kisses, Cora drug her fingernails along his back, bringing them up to tousle his hair and back down again and, when they could not kiss anymore for need of air and Robert rested his head on her shoulder, she pressed her lips near his ear.

"Happy New Year, my love."

He groaned into her shoulder, and she held him more tightly against her as their movements became more frenzied.

* * *

A little while later, as they rest together, anticipating sleep, Cora had a most beautiful realization: in that moment, snuggled next to Robert as the first dawn of a new year approached, a profound feeling of absolute certainty overcame her that she was precisely where she was meant to be. She had not doubted her marriage before, at least not for more than a few fleeting moments of anger or frustration or melancholy, and those moments had become fewer and fewer as the months went by, but now, smiling tiredly to herself, she _knew_. She knew with all her being that there was nowhere else she could have possibly been in that moment. It was a degree of serenity she doubted she had felt before in her entire life, however happy or comfortable her childhood was.

Meanwhile, as Robert ran his fingers lightly along her back, he remembered her deep groan – that seemed for a moment as if it were coming from her whole body. And how she absolutely shuddered. That had happened to her before, of course, but it had not been like _that; _he had never before been so very amazed by her, by her pleasure, by giving her pleasure_._ Or, perhaps he simply had never stopped to contemplate the significance of it all before. How lucky he was that he had chosen Cora, he mused, as he felt the soft skin of her bare back underneath his fingertips, that they had found that they loved each other so. Then, unbidden, images of the previous New Year's Eve came to his mind, when they were still so unsure of each other, only married a few months, and the contrast was striking.

And then he thought of all the nights of the previous winter, when resting entangled in each other was not yet so sublimely peaceful, when on a few occasions he sensed that Cora was holding back tears. At the time, he had always pushed that suspicion out of his mind, not sure of what he should – or could – do or say. Compared with the various images of the night they had just shared – her sultry voice, her lips against his stomach, her gasps and groans and sighs, the look of supreme contentment she wore as she pulled him to her, the press of her legs around him as he collapsed against her and she didn't want to let him go – Robert didn't know what to feel about those early months. He felt fortunate, of course, that the melancholy and awkward encounters were in the past, but he also felt quite guilty that he _hadn't_ said anything on so many occasions, hadn't even thought to ask how she was feeling.

And as he thought of all of the things that had yet to happen between them a year ago, he began to contemplate the suspicions he used to ignore, wondering if she had been truly miserable, sometimes, if she merely felt obligated to humor him, to please him. That unsettled him, made him feel rather a cad. On one hand, he suspected that he may not want to know the truth, but he felt strongly, despite being at a loss as to how to transform his feelings into the proper words, that he needed to say something to Cora about his realizations. He owed her that, at least.

"Cora?" he ventured quietly, but she was already sleeping.

Soon Robert's eyes shut as well, and, amid thoughts about the significance of their long and delicious night together, he drifted to sleep.

* * *

By the time they awoke, the sun indicated that it must be late morning, but neither were in any hurry to start moving. Cora stretched her arms up in the air, spreading her fingers out and taking a deep breath, then rolled over to face Robert, who looked at her with a dazed smile. She kissed him lazily, to which he reacted with a pleased but tired sigh as he wrapped his arms around her.

For several minutes, they rolled around kissing, entangling themselves in the bedclothes and in each other, until Cora pulled away, resting her head, and cupping his cheek with her hand.

She smirked. "Good morning."

"Mmm, good morning to _you_," Robert responded, before impetuously kissing her again.

When he ended the kiss, her eyes were closed and she sighed contentedly through her smile, not knowing how studiously he was watching her until she opened her eyes a few moments later and was met with his awed face.

"What are you looking at?" she teased him.

"You're so beautiful in the morning, when you," he paused for a moment, lacking the words. "I think – you seem so unaware of your own beauty, when you first wake up, and it makes you even more beautiful."

She smiled again. "I love you so.

"And I you."

"And I rather like your morning stubble, I think," she commented as she brushed her thumb along his rough cheek.

"I'm glad."

She demonstrated this further by bringing her lips to his cheek, then along his jaw, his neck.

"Yes, quite nice," she announced.

For a few moments, they paused, smiling at each other, until Robert's stomach grumbled.

"What time is it?" he asked, ignoring her smirk.

Smirk aside, Cora obliged him, and peered over his head to the clock on his bedside table.

"Quarter til eleven. And we couldn't have got to sleep any earlier than four."

Robert groaned.

"I'm terribly hungry, but I'm not sure I can face the day."

Cora chuckled, cuddling up closer to him.

"Mmm, you could stay here and have breakfast with me."

"Could I?"

"I don't see why not. And then perhaps we could take a nice post-breakfast nap, and _then_ consider facing the day. Or at least the remainder of the day."

He grinned, wrapping his arms more fully around her and kissing her forehead.

"Aren't you full of good ideas this morning?"

"Am I not usually?" She teased him, and lifted her head so as to see his reaction. His eyes rolled. "We haven't got any obligations today..."

"Oh, come here, darling," he interrupted her rationalization, pulling her toward him to kiss her again.

Cora wrapped her arms around his neck and scooted her body on top of his, smiling as she broke the kiss.

"So, shall we ring for breakfast?"

"I suppose so," he agreed, slight disappointment evident in his voice.

"Robert," Cora responded pointedly, "You'll be miserable if you don't get something to eat soon." She pressed a consolatory kiss to his cheek. "And besides, we mustn't leave the bed, really." Now, her eyebrows rose seductively before she took a few moments to kiss him again – and run her hands down the sides of his body. "Although, you'd do well to put some clothes on before Evans arrives."

With that, she playfully smacked the outsides of both hips and rolled off of him to stand up and ring for the maid.

"You would, too!" Robert was almost shocked to realize that Cora had walked to the chord by the door without a stitch of clothing on. But his wife was supremely content, and – remembering the happy realization she had just before falling asleep – contemplating just how they might spend the morning in bed. After pulling the chord, she offered him a mischievous smirk, and turned around to retrieve her dressing gown – but then she saw the room, which was littered with their various clothing items.

As she surveyed the damage, she wished she had thought to clean it up before ringing for the maid. Her corset lay most unceremoniously in the middle of the floor, her vast skirt equally sloppily discarded next to the wardrobe, partially obscured by Robert's tails. His trousers are halfway under the bed – she did recall flinging them rather unceremoniously – and drawers and petticoats and other accoutrements were spread over the floor. At least her chemise and stockings were carefully collected on the vanity chair, even if that was hardly where they belonged.

"Robert," Cora collected herself. "Go get your dressing gown, and I'll clean this up." Openly spending the morning, and maybe the afternoon, ensconced in her bedroom with her husband was one thing for her lady's maid to know about – and potentially gossip about – but the evidence of a passionate undressing was another, even if Evans would know that _she _had not helped Lady Downton undress. All of a sudden Cora's serenity disappeared, as she hurriedly fetched her dressing gown, tied it tightly, and set out to pick up everything, making a pile on the sofa. She looked up as she finished to find Robert lounging casually on the bed, his bare legs emerging from his dressing gown.

"Sit under the blanket," she hissed. "Evans doesn't need to know you're not wearing pajamas."

"Oh, right," he agreed, despite thinking that it would probably be obvious, anyway.

Her work done, Cora crawled up next to him, feeling accomplished, and suddenly, she found her brief panic – and the whole situation – rather humorous. They looked at each other then, smiling, and were soon rolling into each other, laughing.

"How to handle something like this –" her speech was punctuated by giggles – "is _not_ included in the mountains of marital advice one receives before one's wedding. Not even from _my_ mother."

Somewhere in the haze of laughter, this comment reminded Robert of his thoughts before drifting off to sleep, making him wonder what she _was_ told.

* * *

Fortunately, they managed to suppress their laughter, and were sitting up on their own sides of the bed, legs tucked safely under the duvet, when the maid arrived several minutes later with a tray. Cora calmly requested another one be brought up with breakfast for Robert, who noted how smoothly she asked, with gentle authority and no hint of the embarrassment she seemed to feel when she had realized that the maid might see their clothes strewn haphazardly around the room – or spot his bare legs.

"Since when did you become the one who's more worried about how things look?" he teased her after Evans departed for a second tray.

"You _have_ met your mother, right?"

He snorted.

"And your thinking is that she can't object to us having breakfast together in your bed on New Year's Day, but that she _would_ find it unseemly for your ladies' maid to see my legs?"

"Well, they're very nice legs, and I'm not interested in sharing my privilege to view them."

Robert sputtered, not having expected that response. "Oh, Cora."

She raised her eyebrows and smirked joyfully at him, then giggled when he leaned over to press his lips to her collar bone.

* * *

After a leisurely breakfast of feeding each other toast and nearly spilling tea on numerous occasions due to kissing and thus jostling the trays, Cora and Robert rested together, soon drifting to sleep once more as the midday winter sun warmed the room. Cora was awoken after this pleasant interlude to Robert's lips at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and his hand resting on her stomach, partially under her dressing gown, which had slipped open.

"I would spend every day, like this, with you," he murmured when he saw her open eyes.

"You wouldn't even go riding, or hunting?"

"Well, maybe sometimes." He kissed her cheek. "But only for a few hours."

She turned her head, kissing him on the lips. "And what would I do? While you were hunting?"

"You could have a new dress made."

"Why?"

"So I could take it off of you."

Cora's giggle was muted by Robert kissing her, more intently this time, and nudging her onto her back, so that he could lean over her and trail kisses down her neck, along the edge of her dressing gown. This he pushed to the side as he got lower, kissing her breasts and disappearing under the duvet as his lips covered her stomach. He rested his head on her thigh as he drew patterns over her stomach with his fingers.

At first, Cora closed her eyes in enjoyment, but when he hit upon a particularly ticklish spot, she squealed, rolling over onto her stomach, away from him. Robert followed her, now pressing his lips to the back of her thigh, over the curve of her bottom, and, pushing the dressing gown out of his way, continued up along the side of her back.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, arriving at her ear. But when she turned her head to face him, she was smiling.

"It's alright," she said, lifting her arm to slide it around him. "You can tickle me anytime, if you kiss me like that."

"Well, then, we've got a compromise." As they smiled at each other, in agreement, Robert slipped his arm under her, pulling her closer, and they settled on their sides, bodies close, eyes on each other. Though they found themselves in a comfortable silence, Robert remembered his concerns from earlier.

"Cora, may I ask you something?" His voice was clearly tentative.

"Of course."

"Well, perhaps it's less of a question, really, but it may partially be a question."

"Go ahead."

"Last night, I was thinking – oh, God, I'm not sure how to talk about this at all – but, the thing is, I'm not sure I had any idea, really, when we married, how _this_ could be. How _good, _I suppose. And" – he continued, seeing that she wanted to try to help him finish his thought – "I am sorry if you didn't really enjoy, uh, well – " and as he searched for the appropriate turn of phrase, his mind wandered, unhelpfully, back to how intense her pleasure seemed the night before, and how pleased he was that he could – now – bring her to such a state.

"I'm not sure I had any idea, either," Cora interrupted his jumbled thoughts. "But I am so very glad we figured things out. So that they could be this good."

"Yes," he pulled his mind back to the conversation. "As am I."

"What was your question, then?" she asked, slowly.

Robert looked at her studiously for several moments, before taking a deep breath. "I don't think I really had one. I just wanted to - apologize, I suppose."

"For what?"

"I hope I never pressured you. Made you feel obligated to...anything. And I do apologize if I did." Now he was speaking quickly, but kept going, without pause, so as to not lose his nerve. "And I regret very much that you were probably rather uncomfortable, in the beginning, anyway. And that I didn't _try_ to figure things out sooner."

"Oh, darling, I wasn't uncomfortable, not really," Cora smiled at him, sweetly, and stroked his cheek. "It's not as if I had any real idea of what I should expect." She considered for a moment. "Being with you was never unpleasant, it's just become a great deal more fun over time." She paused, taking in the sincerity and concern in his eyes, remembering the nights that awkwardly making love was the catalyst to feeling like crying herself to sleep over her whole awkward marriage. But it was never because he hurt her in any physical way, and – for a reason she couldn't explain – she very much wished to reassure him. "We've both had to learn, I think."

"Yes," he agreed. "You're sure, though? It's really alright?"

"Yes," Cora nodded. "And, while it makes me feel very loved that you _did_ worry, I don't want you to worry about such things anymore. And if you do, ask me, right away."

"Alright."

"And right now, I would like nothing more than for you to kiss me."

"Where?" Robert asked, mischievously.

"Anywhere," Cora's answer came as his lips landed on hers. "Everywhere," she continued, as they start down her throat. "And you don't have to stop for the whole day," she had to interrupt herself, sighing as he took her breast into his mouth. "Unless you want to."

"I don't."


End file.
